


this ain't love (it's clear to see)

by cenli



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Land Before Time spoilers, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cenli/pseuds/cenli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have to leave a little early today, so I'll take first shower. Might be out late as well, meeting Hinata after work.”</p><p>Kei blinked, then called out to him. “Is that really a good idea? Every time you see him you come home a mess, and then I have to sit around making sure you don’t die of alcohol poisoning.” </p><p>“Like you don't do the same every time Yamaguchi comes running to tell you about his marital problems.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	this ain't love (it's clear to see)

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be working on stuff for KageHina week and instead I had this idea and it's so angst-filled, but kind of sweet. I like the idea of Tsukki and Kage taking care of each other ^^
> 
> I listened to [ "Stay With Me"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rC8RRXcfeo) by Sam Smith (layered with Rainymood) the entire time I was writing this, and the title is from the song.

Smoke curled out of his mouth in long wispy tendrils to mingle with the mist from his breath in the frigid air. He shivered slightly, bare arms and chest sprouting goose bumps. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose and took another drag of the cigarette, savoring the quiet of early winter mornings. 

As if to spite him, a loud bang signified the opening of a door, and feet stomped into the tiny kitchen. He swiveled on the countertop to find blue eyes rivalling the iciness of the air wafting in the window glaring at him intently. 

"Do you have to do that inside? The whole apartment stinks.”

He motioned casually toward the open window and the blue eyes narrowed.

“Seriously, Kei, it's disgusting. I know you don't give a shit about your health anymore, but that shit gets in my lungs and clothes and hair and people give me shitty looks all day.”

Kei cocked an eyebrow, taking another drag of his cigarette. “You sure that's not because of your face, Highness?” He blew smoke lazily toward the other man. “Or it might be your vocabulary.”

Kageyama stared at him another moment before muttering something that sounded like "gangly bastard" under his breath, turning to busy himself with the coffee machine. Kei reached an arm out to grind the butt of his cigarette into the red-brick side of their building, before unwinding his long legs from their crossed position and sliding lithely off the countertop. He leaned with his hip against the counter beside Kageyama, watching his movements. Filter and grounds and water fitting into place easily in a routine that had been repeated probably a thousand times before.

Kageyama reached into the cupboard and brought down two mugs, filling one a third of the way up with milk, then putting three teaspoons of sugar in the other. The coffee machine sputtered and he poured them their respective cups, then leaned heavily against Kei and rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder, sighing softly. It was an easy, quiet moment, and Kei could almost forget the constant bickering that permeated their apartment. 

Kei took a sip, then turned to brush his lips gently against Kageyama’s hair, so slight the touch might have been mistaken for a breeze, but Kageyama hummed a note of contentment, then stood and took his coffee into the bedroom. 

“I have to leave a little early today, so I'll take first shower. Might be out late as well, meeting Hinata after work.”

Kei blinked, then called out to him. “Is that really a good idea? Every time you see him you come home a mess, and then I have to sit around making sure you don’t die of alcohol poisoning.” 

“Like you don't do the same every time Yamaguchi comes running to tell you about his marital problems.” 

Kei bristled, but Kageyama poked his head out the bedroom almost immediately, looking faintly embarrassed. 

“That was a bit far...sorry.” 

Kei didn't say anything, glaring down at the rapidly cooling coffee in his hands. He closed his eyes and tried to bring his thoughts away from his old friend. He didn't have time to address the feelings that had been boring a hole in his chest since junior high, let alone the energy. Instead, Kei closed his eyes and listened as the normal sounds of early morning filled their apartment: a neighbor’s cat yowling for breakfast, the occasional passing of cars on the street outside, the shower stuttering to life and Kageyama's faint yelp as cold water hit his skin, and then just his own quiet breathing as the coffee machine gurgled and drizzle began to fall from the sky. 

He started and blinked open his eyes when Kageyama touched his arm, steam curling from still-warm skin and dressed in familiar black slacks and white button down, sleeves rolled up though he still had to walk to work in early morning November weather. Kei couldn't remember a time he'd seen Kageyama not roll his sleeves up, regardless of attire. Sleeves got in the way of tossing, he supposed, not that Kageyama had even touched a volleyball in at least a year (that he knew of). He smelled like pine sap and peppermint and Kei's nose twitched. 

“You always put too much of that shit on.”

“I like it.” Kageyama shrugged. “You bought it for me.”

“So simple-minded, Highness.” 

Kageyama leaned up and lightly pressed a kiss to his jaw, his clean-shaven cheek brushing against Kei's stubble, and Kei felt his stomach twist. 

“Don't forget an umbrella.” 

The door clicked shut and Kei chewed on his lip absentmindedly, not wanting to think about the long day ahead. Every time Kageyama spent the night with Hinata he would come home drunk and broken, crying and mumbling incoherently while Kei brought him glasses of water and reminded him to spit the mouthwash out after he puked. 

Those nights were exhausting. 

Kei tried not to think about the last time Yamaguchi had called him to complain about how Yachi was becoming too involved with his coworkers and how nothing was sacred and he just needed some space and _God, Tsukki, you are so lucky you’re not married._ Kei had nodded numbly and smoked his cigarette and then gone home and pressed Kageyama into the mattress and tried his hardest to forget about Yamaguchi for a few hours. Tried to make them both forget about the choices that had led them both to living in this cramped apartment, working jobs they hated, never quite managing to quit the bad habits they'd formed, be they a substance or a person. 

It never worked, but the lazy, drunken kisses Kageyama trailed up his throat and across his cheeks when they lay in bed together in the early hours of the morning after made him feel warmer than lying alone.

Kei pushed himself off the counter and dumped his cold coffee, leaving the mugs sitting in the bottom of the sink. Kageyama was better at the domestic stuff, anyway. He let hot water hit his body for a few minutes, not exactly scrubbing himself clean, but at least he didn't stink of cigarettes anymore. He tugged on worn boots and a bomber jacket, grabbing an umbrella as an afterthought. His video store clerk job was less stressful than Kageyama’s call-centre work, but Kageyama made more money than him and worked longer hours, so it was fair. Kei worked in the back most days, filing shipping and receiving orders and running stock checks. He nodded a greeting to his coworkers but didn't remove his headphones. Before the work day officially started, he didn't talk to anyone he wasn't obligated to. 

Most mornings with Kageyama were quiet, but they both preferred it that way. 

That night Kei stopped by a konbini to pick up a few bento, one for his own dinner and one for Kageyama when he decided to stumble home. He never remembered to eat when he was sad, or when he was drunk. He was almost always both after nights spent with Hinata, though Kei never questioned exactly why and Kageyama never offered the information. The one time Kei had tagged along he'd only managed an hour of watching Kageyama drink scotch after scotch while Hinata flirted with every soul in the bar before excusing himself. He’d kicked a dumpster on his way home, angry at Kageyama for putting himself in that situation. Angry at himself for not dragging Kageyama out of the bar and home. Angry at the fact Kageyama watched Hinata flit between people in the bar with half a smile on his face, sadness making his eyes extra blue. 

Kei kicked a dumpster because he’d looked at Kageyama’s eyes and felt like drowning. The yearning he saw there was alien, but also too familiar for comfort. He’d limped home and lay awake, staring at the ceiling until he heard the apartment door swing shut and Kageyama’s soft sobs reverberated through the walls.

This time, Kei dragged the comforter from their bed onto the couch and watched reruns of some soap opera while picking at his bento. Around one in the morning a key turned in the lock and Kageyama lurched through the door, eyes bleary and his coat falling off his shoulders. Kei clicked his tongue and dragged him under the blanket, hissing as Kageyama’s frozen skin came into contact with his own. Kageyama buried his face in Kei's shoulder and took a few shuddering breaths, and Kei wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Kageyama was extra pliant on nights like this, words slurring and body warming slowly.

“I bought you teriyaki chicken.”

“Mm, thanks.”

“Your breath stinks.”

“Better than cigarettes. Let’s watch something.”

Kei flicked through the channels while Kageyama grabbed his bento from the fridge, tearing into it before he'd even sat down again, moaning slightly as he ate. 

“There's nothing good on at this time of night.” 

“What about Land Before Time?” 

Kei raised an eyebrow, glancing over to see if Kageyama was mocking him. “I thought you hated that movie. You cried last time we watched it.”

“It’s your favourite, right?” Kageyama had dropped a few pieces of rice on his shirt. “I just don't like when the mother dies, but I’ll watch it with you.”

Kei looked at him, taking in the rumpled t-shirt and the way his hair was squashed to one side and how his eyes were still hazy, but also wide and expectant. Kageyama stank of sweat and cheap alcohol and sadness, but Kei kissed him anyway, easy and slow and almost-sweet, before getting up to grab the tape. 

“You should really stop smoking, Kei.”

“You should really stop drinking, Tobio.”

Kageyama flipped him off and Kei chuckled and pushed play and listened as the normal sounds of late night filled their apartment: rain drumming against windows, the hush of cars passing occasionally on the wet street outside, Kageyama's loud proclamations that Ducky was the best character and no one liked Sarah, _honestly, Kei, for such a smart guy you're a dumbass_ , and then just his own quiet breathing as the VHS player hummed in rewind and Kageyama drooled on his chest.


End file.
